Her Heart is Mine
by siren lover
Summary: Fem!Sherlock. John didnt know what he was getting himself into when he dicided to live with sherlock. A beautiful woman who attracts danger from every angle. Kidnapping! A Protective big brother and a jealous lover. Will his life ever be normal again?


Chapter 1:

Coming back from war, john had several plans. Rent a flat, become a local doctor, get a girlfriend, marry said girlfriend, buy a house and have one or two children. In his opinion they were realistic goals that were easily achievable. Only one thing stood between john and his goals; Sherlock Holmes. And John Watson soon found out that where ever Sherlock was, trouble wasn't too far behind.

When John first met Sherlock he was looking for a flat. An old colleague, Mike, had told him that he knew of someone in the same situation. John didn't mind sharing. It meant less rent. So he had followed Mike to . Mike led him to a lab where his future flat mate apparently was. There was one slight problem. He was expecting a He not a She. The moment John saw her he couldn't remove his eyes. She was petite he noticed, with a delicate slim body. Her face was hidden behind a curtain of curly raven locks as she was looking into a microscope. Her long delicate fingers were fiddling with the knobs of the microscope. As if feeling his gaze, she looked up and turned slowly to face him. John felt his heart skip a beat. He couldn't remember how to breathe. Ice blue eyes stared into his brown. They were like two globes filled with stars and dreams. Her facial features were perfectly proportioned. John tried to remember if he had been killed in battle. This couldn't be real. She couldn't be real. He felt his stomach drop as soon as she turned towards Mike.

"Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine." Her voice held an elegant tint. It was a fresh change from the rough voices of men.

"And what's wrong with the landline?" John looked at Mike as if he were stupid. How could he deny someone like her, such a small thing? Mike seemed to be immune to the beautiful creature.

"I prefer to text." John couldn't think rationally. Never in all his life had he ever been so unfocused. 'You can't blame yourself', he thought, 'you've been surrounded by hairy men for the past year and she is a really attractive woman.'

"Sorry. It's in my coat." Mike apologized. John took this as a chance for her to notice him. Searching through his pocket he found his phone. 'Act cool john,' he thought to himself, 'you can do this.'

"Er, here. Use mine." He stuttered. His whole face seemed to burn as she looked at him with a delicate raised brow. 'Nice going john.' he mentally beat himself.

"Oh. Thank you." She smiled at him. She actually smiled. At him. She turned to Mike with a quizzical stare and john had never wanted to punch a man as much as he wanted to punch Mike right now. Were the two friends? Were they dating? Jealousy burned deep within him at the thought. That bastard.

"This is an old friend of mine, John Watson." He told her. She nodded her head, her curls bouncing. She reached for the phone in his hand and john felt his breath hitch as her skin came into contact with his. Her skin was soft. Really soft. John blushed as he tried to keep his naughty thoughts at bay.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" she asked, typing into his phone. John blinked. Twice. He looked to Mike for answers. The prat was smiling at him with a knowing look.

"Sorry?"

"Which was it – Afghanistan or Iraq?" she briefly raised her eyes to John's before looking back at the phone. Was she a seer? How did she know that?

"Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you know...?" he asked politely. His mother had instilled manners on how to act in front of a lady into him from a young age. God bless her. She didn't acknowledge him. He was about to ask again when somebody entered the room.

"Ah, Max, coffee. Thank you." She addressed the stranger. John examined the man in front of him. Max was a short, lanky man. His brown hair was combed and gelled neatly back out of his eyes. His pale face had a smattering of freckles. He was dressed in a normal shirt, trousers and shoe combination. And his face had turned red when he was addressed by the pretty woman. She closed his phone and handed it back to him. Max brought the mug over to her. His face was turning redder with every step.

"What happened to the tie?" she asked him. He smiled awkwardly at her. It was an embarrassed smile.

"It wasn't working for me." He stuttered.

"Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your shirts too plain now." She replied, grimacing at the bitterness of her coffee. John didn't know why she even bothered with the coffee. In his opinion tea was the only option. Maybe he could introduce her to his favorite kinds one day.

"…..Okay." Max whispered, before heading towards the door.

"How do you feel about the violin?" she asked.

John looked to Max but he was on his way out the door. He then glanced at Mike who was still smiling smugly, making him want to punch the look off his face, before he realized she was addressing him.

"I'm sorry, what?" he stumbled out his words. She was typing on a computer keyboard. Her delicate fingers were flying across the keys.

"I play the violin when I'm thinking. Sometimes I don't talk for days on end." She turned to look at john. "Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other. Not that I'm a bad violinist, mind you."

John turned to Mike confused. Did he tell her about him?

"Oh, you ... you told her about me?"

"Not a word."

John turned to the woman. It wasn't that he minded sharing a flat with her. He was just confused by how she knew he was looking for a flat.

"Then who said anything about flatmates?" he asked her. Her eyes pierced into him as she put on a black coat.

"I did. Told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult woman to find a flatmate for. Now here he is just after lunch with an old friend, clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn't that difficult a leap. And here we are both looking for a flat."

"How did you know about Afghanistan?" he asked amazed. Who was she?

She ignored his question and wrapped her scarf around her neck.

"Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. Together we ought to be able to afford it. I must say it will be fun." She turned towards John and looked him dead in the eye. "We'll meet there tomorrow evening; seven o'clock. Sorry – gotta dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary. It's always hard to replace a good riding crop, if you know what I mean." She winked at him. John felt his face burn at her implication.

She then turned towards the door. Making her way out of the only exit in the room.

John turned to look at her in confusion. This beautiful woman wanted to share a flat with him. He could be a murderer for all she knew. Or worse. Not that he was mind you, but still.

"Is that it?" he asked.

She turned back from the door and was in front of him in matter of seconds. His breath hitched in his throat as he could smell the sweet coffee from her breath rolling towards him in crashing waves.

"Is that what?" She asked, tilting her head in a questioning manner.

"We've only just met and we're gonna go and look at a flat?"

"Problem?" she cocked an eyebrow.

John smiled in disbelief, looking across to Mike for help. The man was still smiling, and it was starting to irritate him. He turned back to the woman whose name he didn't even know, that wanted to share a flat with him.

"We don't know a thing about each other; I don't know where we're meeting; I don't even know your name." John shivered under her gaze.

"I know you're an Army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him – possibly because he's an alcoholic; more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic – quite correctly, I'm afraid. And I also know you're looking for a flat. Well so am I. It would seem we are in the same predicament." She replied.

"That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?" she smirked at him smugly. John thought the look was quite attractive.

He watched as she walked to the door and disappeared out of it before leaning back into the room again.

"The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address is two two one B Baker Street." She click-winked at john before turning to Mike.

"Afternoon."

Mike raised a finger in farewell as Sherlock disappeared from the room. As the door slammed shut behind her, John turned and looked at Mike in disbelief.

"Yeah. She's always like that. You get used to it mate"

Hey guys hope you like the new story. I'll be updating my other ones pretty soon.

All reviews and criticism wanted.


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